Red vs Blue: Origins
by Theo Gary
Summary: Who is the Director? What prompted him to create the mysterious Project Freelancer? And how did it all lead to a box canyon in the middle of nowhere? This is where it all began. Beware of major Reconstruction spoilers.
1. Chapter One

_This is something I wanted to do alongside my Reconstruction novelization. It is the story of Project Freelancer. The origins of the Director, the creation of Alpha, and the events that led up to Red vs. Blue. This is in no way official. It's just my own speculation about how things might have happened. Warning: if you haven't seen the final Chapter Reconstruction, this story contains MAJOR spoilers._

_I would appreciate any reviews, good or bad._

* * *

**New Avignon, Alpha Orion System**

**January 5, 2526**

**Covenant War: Year One**

Hell. That was how the survivors of New Avignon described the battle. But truth be told, that was a rather mild description. The twisted, burned bodies of men, women and children could be seen no matter which direction one looked. The air could barely be called that, for it was filled with smoke, ash and burning embers. Very little could be heard over the cacophony of screams, weapon rapports, blaring evacuation sirens and guttural alien battle cries. No, this was not Hell. At this very moment, the spirits of dead soldiers were thanking their lucky stars that they had escaped New Avignon and landed in that place.

From the doorway of a half-collapsed restaurant, a thin, black-haired man wearing a ripped and burned lab coat stared up in awe and fear as a shifting black cloud roared overhead, making a sound like a fleet of old Earth helicopters and raining bolts of plasma down upon the city. The enthusiasm of the man's scientific mind could not be contained as it observed the marvel of an entire swarm of sentient insects. He wondered how they coordinated their actions and whether or not there was a queen somewhere, directing their actions.

His rampant hypothesizing was cut short as a hand grabbed him and yanked him behind a pile of rubble.

"_Are…you…INSANE?"_ the woman hissed angrily. She gripped her MA5B rifle tightly and risked a glance over the rubble. After a moment, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Leonard, I love you but you are a fucking moron sometimes. What if they had seen you?"

Leonard shrugged innocently. "They didn't, Allyson, mah dear. And Ah have learned some valuable information about our enemy's battle tactics that could aid the UNSC in the futuh." he said simply, his charming Southern Drawl softening his wife's expression.

"Well you're still a fucking moron." Allyson said with affectionate annoyance. "Come on. We have to get to the evac point."

He nodded and picked up the M6A handgun she had given him. Why she felt he needed it, he had no idea. His piss-poor aim with any weapon was something she mocked him about mercilessly. Together, the doctor and the soldier wound their way through the city, keeping to darkened alleyways as much as they could. Their only encounter with the enemy was a very short skirmish with four surprised Grunts.

Just a few hours previously, the Governor of New Avignon had ordered a complete emergency evacuation of all civilians from the planet after a small Covenant fleet had slipspaced in and engaged the planetary defense fleet. The space battle had barely lasted an hour and now, the surface was swarming with Elites, Hunters, Grunts and Drones. The one surviving UNSC Frigate, the Beacon of Justice, had landed and the relatively few Marines left defending the planet were scrambling to evacuate the people before the Covenant got tired of battling on the ground and just decided to glass the entire planet. Fortunately though, that had not yet happened.

"We're almost there," said Allyson, checking her map. "Just a few blocks more and-"

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she tackled Leonard to the ground, just as the wall next to them exploded. He felt the rain of mortar falling on and around them, but he curiously wondered at the fact that he couldn't hear it. All he heard were dull thuds and vague unidentifiable sounds. The logical part of his mind told him that the explosion had rendered his temporarily deaf. He also realized that he couldn't feel anything below the waist, nor could he move his legs. He turned to tell Allyson…and stared in shock at what he saw. She lay next to him, staring at nothing, blood leaking from her head. He screamed her name, refusing to believe what his eyes were telling him. He continued screaming for her, even as one of the three Elites who had attacked them lifted him up by the front of his shirt and stuck its plasma pistol in the middle of his head. _Do it, you monster, _he thought. _Just kill me._

He felt no joy and no relief when the Elite jerked suddenly and dropped him, falling to the ground a second later. He did not exalt when bullets from the Warthog that roared down the street ripped the other two Elites to shreds. And no relieved words of thanks passed his lips as two Marines pulled him into the vehicle while a third checked Allyson's pulse and then sadly closed her eyes. From his position in the rear of the vehicle, he watched as Covenant dropships rose from the streets and headed for space. As they loaded him onto a Pelican, he saw the first bright purple beams come lancing down through the clouds, obliterating buildings and turning the dirt and sand to molten glass. And through it all, he only felt emptiness, a kind of distant, cold detachment that he had once reserved for the world of scientific experimentation. That was his entire world now; the world of Dr. Leonard Church.


	2. Chapter Two

**Earth, Sol System**

**July 26, 2542**

**Covenant War: Year Sixteen

* * *

**"Hey Doc, wake up. Your meeting is in half-an-hour."

Dr. Church opened his eyes. For a moment he was confused. The sound of the Pelican's engines had vanished, as had the bright flashes from the Covenant's orbital bombardment. But then, his memory reasserted itself. He was not back on New Avignon. He was in his office/home inside HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6 in Sydney, Australia.

A small human figure appeared on his bedside table. It looked much the way he once had; thin with scruffy black hair and sharp eyes. Unlike Dr. Church, however, it glowed blue and computerized numbers and letters zoomed across its 'skin.' This was Alpha, Church's personal AI Unit. Technically, his work didn't warrant having a Smart AI, but he had been able to pull some strings since he was the chief designer of AI Units for the UNSC. "Hello? Earth to Doc. I said it's almost time for your meeting. You gonna get up or just lay in bed all day?"

Church grasped the bar next to his bed and pulled himself up into a sitting position. As he did, the pain in his upper back flared spectacularly. His lower back, of course, remained as numb as it had been for the past sixteen years. "Ah'm up, Alpha," he said, hating how very old his voice sounded. "Bring up mah legs and make me some coffee."

Alpha snapped his 'fingers' and a panel in the floor right next to the bed opened, allowing an elevator platform to rise into place. On the platform were two mechanical leg braces. At the same time, two bars with rings on the ends dropped from the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, Church grasped the rings and pulled his useless legs around so that they hung over the side of the bed. Taking another deep breath, he pulled himself up into the braces which closed around his legs and held him upright while the sensors within them connected with the chip in his brain. He took an experimental step forward and nearly toppled over, only being saved by the bars. With a sigh of great annoyance, he grabbed his cane and hobbled towards the small kitchen alcove. Right on cue, a steaming mug emerged from a slot in the wall. He took it and stared distastefully at the pale greenish liquid within.

"Alpha, this is NOT coffee."

Alpha appeared on the counter. "Nope. It's green tea. Doc Grayson said you can't have coffee any more. But hey, if you wanna die of ulcers, be my guest."

Church dumped the tea down the drain and went to the closet to get dressed. "What's on mah schedule for today?"

Alpha brought up a holographic clipboard. "Uh…Let's see. Well, there's the meeting with the ONI spooks which is now in fifteen minutes. And Doc Halsey called again. She wants to know when her new AI is gonna be done."

"That woman is a very distinct threat to mah sanity." Church growled. "Send the good the good doctuh a response and tell her that if she would like a standard AI Unit, Ah will be more than happy to expedite the process. But please kindly inform her that if she wants the Smart AI she requested, then she will simply have to be patient."

Alpha nodded and pretended to write on the clipboard. "'Quit bugging me you obnoxious fucking bitch.' Got it. Ten minutes 'til the meeting, by the way. Oh, and Councilor Al-Humam is here." At that exact instant, the door trilled.

"Come in." Church said, putting on his lab coat.

The door opened, revealing a man in a crisp black uniform. Councilor Omar Al-Humam was Church's contact within the Office of Naval Intelligence. He was tall, young, had rich dark skin and possessed both a handsome, trustworthy face and a smooth, reassuring voice, leaving no wonder as to why he made such a good Spook for ONI. Church knew that in reality, he was as cold as deep space and just about as caring.

"Doctor," The Councilor said in greeting. "Are you ready to go?"

Church pulled Alpha's storage unit and put it in the slot on his left leg brace. Instantly, he felt the familiar sensation of having a bucket of ice water dumped into his brain as Alpha interfaced with the chip. With that done, Church picked up his briefcase and nodded to the Councilor.

* * *

The walk through Bravo base was silent and uneventful. Marines and Officers stepped out of the way as they approached, eyeing the Councilor's ONI uniform. Neither he nor Dr. Church was much for unnecessary chatter. Even Alpha was silent for once as he interacted with the computer in Church's briefcase, making sure all of his notes were properly organized.

They went through the reception area after confirming with the receptionist and being scanned for bombs and weapons. Two Marines ushered them into the security booth. "Good morning, boys," said a sweet female voice.

Church gave a fake smile while wincing inside. Though he didn't choose the personalities of all the AIs he created, it still galled him that something so obnoxious had been made by his hands. "Good morning, Lysithea."

"Ready for the big meeting?" she asked. "I know I'm excited to find out about your big project."

"We are more than ready," said the Councilor. "But you'll just have to wait like everyone else to find out what it is."

"Aww," she pouted. "Pretty please?"

"Are the scans complete?" Church asked somewhat irritably.

"They are now." Lysithia reported. The wall in front of them slid open, revealing a long, austere hallway. "Break a leg."

"_I REALLY hate that bitch,"_ Alpha muttered in Church's mind.

* * *

The room in which Church and the Councilor stood was not nearly as imposing as the chamber in which the Security Council presided, but it was still uncomfortable standing in the center of the room, surrounded in front by the leaders of ONI's Section Three. Church knew that the Officers on the Security Council were getting itchy as the UNSC suffered defeat after defeat at the hands of the Covenant. The Spartans, though effective in battle, just weren't making enough of a difference. So everyone was trying to find a "magic bullet" that would allow them to win the war.

Church believed he had that.

In the middle of the crescent-shaped table before them, Rear Admiral Rich leaned forward. "Dr. Leonard Church, Councilor Omar Al-Humam, welcome. I understand you have a proposition for us."

The Councilor nodded at Church who stepped forward and placed his briefcase on the table, opening it. "Thank you, gentlemen, for seeing us. Ah'm not one to beat about the bush, so Ah will get straight to the point. Alpha, if you would."

The holoprojector in the briefcase activated and displayed an image of a suit of jet black armor.

Next to Admiral Rich, a thin, balding man leaned forward. Church recognized him as Geoffrey Blackmoore, the Chairman of ONI's Oversight Committee. "Forgive me, dear Doctor," Blackmoore said in his clipped British accent, smiling politely, "but have you come to show Section Three information we are already quite aware of?"

Church returned the false smile. "Certainly not, dear Chairman. What you see before you is the prototype of the MJOLNIR Mark V-A battle suit. Where a regular suit of MJOLNIR armor pulverized the bones of a normal human, this suit does not. This design removes the extreme strength and speed augmenting abilities of the original."

Blackmoore quirked an eyebrow at Church. "Again, you will have to forgive me, Doctor, but how does this wholly unremarkable suit of armor warrant our attention?"

Church smiled coldly. "For this reason. Alpha, begin the demonstration."

The hologram of the suit vanished and was replaced with a video of a battlefield. Two soldiers stood, looking around for enemies. Suddenly, the air shimmered behind them and four Elites appeared and opened fire. "What you see," Church narrated, "is something Ah am sure you are all already aware of. The Covenant has equipped their Elites with active camouflage devices. Using them, they vanish from sight and motion trackers. The UNSC has captured some of these units and has even employed them in a few situations. However they have one fatal flaw. They are only good for one minute of invisibility and that is only if the subject does not make any large movements. Ah, however, have changed that." The video changed to show a man in the black armor, standing in the middle of a room with three mannequins. "The individual you see is Private Reginald King. He is no different from you or me. But as you will see…" Pvt. King tapped a button on the wrist of the suit and vanished. A moment later, bullets ripped out of thin air and tore holes in one of the mannequins. Another was suddenly jerked off the floor and thrown into the wall. And the third's head suddenly twisted into an unnatural position. Church turned off the hologram and smirked. "Any questions?"

Chairman Blackmoore leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers.

Admiral Rich was frowning. "I am intrigued, Doctor. But I also wonder how feasible the mass-production of these units would be?"

"That is the second part of mah proposal, Admiral. The suits would not require mass production because they would not be for standard soldiers. Instead, they would be custom built, each with one of the fifty pieces of advanced technology that we are developing, for a small, elite force. These specially trained individuals would be hand-picked from the Army, the Marines, the Navy and even Civilian sectors. Their job would be to carry out very specific objectives, based on their particular skills. They would not be connected to the UNSC military, allowing them the freedom to do whatever is necessary to get the job done."

Blackmoore gave a small cough. "Let me make sure that I understand you correctly, Doctor Church. Are you suggesting that we allow you to create a group of freelance operatives answerable only to you and your program whom you expect us to turn a blind eye to as they violate UNSC law?"

Church never batted an eye. "That is precisely what Ah am suggesting. Gentlemen, allow me to be blunt. The time for holding on to old moral ideals and archaic laws is hell and gone. We are not facing political conquest. We are facing complete and utter annihilation. And no matter what the media tells the people, we are not winning this war. Victory will require that we take even greater risks than this before all is said and done. Now Ah don't know about you, my dear Chairman, but Ah will not sit idly by while the Covenant destroys what little we have left. And Ah am willing to sacrifice mah lauded place in history to ensure that never comes to pass."

Admiral Rich turned to the Councilor. "Omar, I take it this project has your recommendation?"

The Councilor nodded. "Yes, Admiral. I have reviewed Doctor Church's notes and I am very optimistic about the possibilities this project would present."

For several moments, the council was silent as they conversed via the computers in front of them. Finally, Rich turned back to Church. "Very well, doctor. We are giving this project our full support and naming you as its Director. You will have the funding you need and the facilities you require. What name would you like to give it?"

Church gave Blackmoore a nasty smile. "How about…Project Freelancer?"


End file.
